


ISSD

by Uncannycory



Series: The Institute for the Study of Sleep and Dreams [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Autistic Dirk Strider, Dreams and Nightmares, Homophobia, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Addiction, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Terminal Illness, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Offscreen Dismemberment, POV Second Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stalking, Stimming, Violence, dreamed death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uncannycory/pseuds/Uncannycory
Summary: Rose had recommended it to you and it had sounded like a joke at the time. Insomnia? Nightmares? The Institute for the Study of Sleep and Dreams can teach you to control that. Can teach you to give your dreams to others. Can fix it. You would even get paid! All you had to do was sign the dotted line...
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Series: The Institute for the Study of Sleep and Dreams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851640
Comments: 18
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DSi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSi/gifts).



Rose had recommended it to you and it had sounded like a joke at the time. Insomnia? Nightmares? The Institute for the Study of Sleep and Dreams can teach you to control that. Can teach you to give your dreams to others. Can fix it. You would even get paid! All you had to do was sign the dotted line saying you consented to being studied and that the results could be published. Yadda yadda.  
You initially turned the idea down, despite your twin's assurance. It was only when the dreams began to creep into your waking life as hallucinations that you gave in, going to the ISSD on a bus one evening on impulse, fueled by paranoia and glimpses of him in the shadows.  
The center you went to initially turned you off. It looked less like an institute of study and more like a neat and tidy store front on the strip. The white walls and florescent lights glowed bright, lighting up the evening aggressively. You wondered how you could ever sleep like that. People walked in and out. If not for the creeping sense of doom you would have just walked away. Every shadow was him. You shoved your hands in your pockets and went inside.

He was sitting in the front, tapping away on a tablet when you came in that night. It had been a late day at work, so you got fastfood and skipped going home in favor of going straight to the ISSD. They had showers there anyway. You signed in, grabbing a tablet and barely making it to a suite before hearing a notification. You were already booked. It was Friday evening, so you weren't too surprised but even so, you only could offer nightmares. You weren't normally snapped up so quickly. You were used to being a last resort.  
You flipped the sign on the door to "Occupied" before settling into the only chair in the room. To your right was the shallow tub of well... slime? And over the side of it wires were laid out in a familiar pattern. There was a counter with a tap and a glass for water. You would fill it before you went under but for now, you decided to look at tonight's customer.  
The room they would occupy was on the other side of one way glass. It was set up mirroring yours, with the exception of his side having plastic curtains that could be drawn. There were other rooms, rooms with two way glass, rooms with no glass at all. But it always made you feel better seeing who would be in your head, knowing they couldn'tsee you. No more stalkers that way. And hey, they had signed up knowing the arrangement.  
You tap through your tablet to the profile of your client. They had yet to appear, you assume they were going through intake.  
K. Vantas. Male. 28 years old.  
Not his first time at an ISSD clinic, but it looks like he normally went to a different one.  
Reason for coming is insomnia, restless sleep.  
His dream genre preference seemed to vary wildly, but the last 5 had been strictly nightmares. His reviews seemed to show a lot of dissatisfaction,but only one real complaint. Someone in a romance dream had crossed boundaries he had set and... well you should look at those too...  
The door opened on the other side of the glass, and you looked up. Vantas shuffled in, and you felt bad. You recognized that exhausted look anywhere. You wonder if he was hallucinating.  
He slumped down in the chair, setting his tablet on the table in front of him and rests his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. You tapped a couple times on your tablet, pushing your contract to his tablet and went back to his profile.  
Bounderies:  
Don't use his memories or thoughts to make dreams. Easy enough, you can't do that.  
Nothing about terminal illness. Also good, not something you've ever had nightmares over. Hope he knew you couldn't stop if it did happen though.  
A weird note at the end though.  
He couldn't dream.  
You look up at him. At some point he had pulled his tablet towards him and was scrolling the screen. You assumed he was reading your contract, but it wasn't really much different than the standard ISSD contract he had signed up front. Just, yknow, including the fact you couldn't change or control your dreams and it was always a nightmare.  
You waited a couple minutes. You waited a couple more. He had stopped scrolling and seemed to just be spacing at the tablet. Poor guy. You'd been there not too long ago really.  
You open the messenger app on the tablet, fiddling with the default text color for a minute before messaging the guy.  


Derse: yo  
Derse: you who lacks the dreams  
Derse: i SHALL bestow upon you my worst of nightmares or i too shall look like death in the morning

That seemed to snap him back to attention. He frowned at the screen before looking up to frown at the one way glass. He tapped at the tablet for a couple minutes and you wondered if he was actually going to respond or if he was just finishing the contract when his response popped up on your tablet.  


Prospit: WHAT?

You snorted out a laugh, not trying to hide the crooked smile. No one was here. And this guy was all caps lock yelling? This is golden.  


Derse: intake said u cant dream right? so lets some sweet zs on my dude.  


His mouth kinda scrunched to the side and he looked back up at the one way glass again. Damn your heart. It stutters in time with the unwelcome thought of 'oh no, he's cute.' He heaves a sigh, and after a couple more taps on the tablet, he sets it down to get ready.  
You set down your tablet, getting up to get yourself ready as well. You filled the glass at the sink and set it on the small tray next to the shallow tub. You started stripping out of your work clothes and you hear the blinds get pulled part way across the window. Modest. Cute.  
You pushed those thoughts to the back of your head with a grimace, picking up the wires with the sticky pads at the end and getting to work. You pulled the tabs off as you began sticking them where they go. Your temples, several places along your chest and a couple on your back that you have to stretch a little to get to. There's a poster on the wall to show where they all are supposed to go, but it's old hat now.  
The curtain is left partly open, but if he wanted the privacy, you'd give it to him. You found it useful to know when the other person got in, less time spent lucid in the weird, unconcious part of your mind. As it was you waited a few minutes, and maybe a few minutes more for good measure, before you got in the shallow pool of weird purple tinted slime and let yourself be swept away in the sweet embrace of chemical sleep.

Being dumped into someone's unconscious brain is always a little disorienting. One of the dozens of pamphlets they gave you when you first started said something about how dreams were a way for the brain to sort through unconscious junk it gathered through the day. Or something. You were really out of it when you had forced yourself to read through everything in the thick folder you were given that first night.  
It made sense though. Most of the time, when you were dumped in someone's dream it was kind of just chaos. Loud colors, shifting images, snippets of thoughts and conversations. And in the middle would be the other person, asleep in a lil' dream bubble all their own. Dave always liked to stop a minute there. They always looked so serene, no matter what sort of dream you were pulling them from. Apparently there's just something blissful about being able to turn off your concious for a while.  
It was different in this guy's head though.  
White. Everything was white. You turn completely around and there was nothing. No blurred memories, no mad dash of colors. And it was quiet, deafeningly quiet.  
You turned to look at him and it was still just weird. He was curled up in the center of the scape, that was normal. But there was no bubble. And he was curled up so tight, his body taught like a bow pulled back, but with no release.  
This man, this Vantas guy. He really, truly didn't dream.  
Well. Shouldn't keep a man waiting.  
You reach out and touch him.

When you open your eyes again you are on the outside of a large bubble. Sweet. Your own unconscious mind swirled around you and you pressed forward close to the bubble to see what your nightmare brain decided to give the poor guy.  
Ah. It was this one.  
Stairs stairs stairs. Fucking Penrose Stairs. You hated stairs, and that Escher fucker made that weird ass nightmare fuel lithograph and it's been one of the more common themes in your dreams since Rose had showed it to you in one of her hack "therapy" sessions eons ago.  
So you know what happens next.  
Vantas was standing on a platform somewhere in the knot of stairs. You have to float up around the bubble to see where he is. He looked pensive, peaking over edges and taking in his surroundings. Maybe a little disappointed. Didn't seem like much of a nightmare now did it?  
You can see when he feels him.  
A shiver right up his spine, a catch of breath. Every instinct screaming fight or flight but hey, it's your dream. So his first instinct will be run. Run down the stairs. And he does.  
The dream could go several ways from that point. You had always tried to find if there was a certain trigger so you could get the better outcome, but there was nothing you could see.  
He ran down staircase after staircase, dodging through doorways and arches with a ragged breath. You moved as the bubble refocused itself, expanding and moving as Vantas moved through the dream at breakneck speed. But it wasn't enough, it was never enough. You didn't feel scared, it wasn't scary outside looking in. But you remember the breath on your neck, the cold steel at your back. You shudder for him.  
You see him stop around a corner, at the top of the staircase, gasping for breath. He looks around frantically before inching toward the edge of the platform and looking down at the staircase below.  
You know how this one ends.  
He's considering jumping down a ledge to gain distance, but it's too late. The demon's at his back again and he turns to run again and he forgot... oh he forgets how close to the steps he was.  
He's falling.

You wake up.  
Holy balls you're groggy. The nurses say you'll eventually get used to it but you really don't know if you ever will. You grab for the water you left on the tray and drink deeply. Hell yes.  
You climb out of the shallow tub, letting the wires pop off the stickies harmlessly as you grab for the towel. The residual slime is already drying and flaking so you mostly focus on your boxers. You had an extra pair in a locker here somewhere, but that wasn't now and you wanted this shit to stop being tacky already.  
By the time you had wiped yourself down and gotten into the soft purple robe hung near the tub, Vantas was already sitting at the table typing on the tablet. The curtain was still half drawn, but it had only been drawn to cover the tub you realized, leaving it open enough for you to sit down with your tablet and watch him again.  
You are surprised at how well rested he looked.  
There were still dark bruises under his eyes, but his face was relaxed and calm. Maybe that was even a ghost of a smile on his lips. Your heart squeezes with infatuation and you literally have to slap your cheeks gently so you could focus on the end paperwork.  
You've done this enough that it goes quickly for the most part. It's research questions, and nothing really changes for you though. You have to take a pause when you get to the questions about him though. He really didn't dream at all. How fuckin' weird.  
That part takes a little longer, but you finish it in time to look up and see him get ready to leave. He makes that weird/cute scrunched up face at the one way glass again, giving a short wave and leaving.  
You look back down on the screen. On it you are rewarded the review he gave you for finishing your forms. You remember all the lukewarm and dissatisfied reviews he gave other dreamers, and you tap through to read it with curiosity.  
There was one word in all caps.

PERFECT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at [uncannycory](https://uncannycory.tumblr.com/) on tumblr  
> Comments and criticism always welcome


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didnt mention it before, but a lot of these chapters will be based off real nightmares ive had. Repurposed for the story obvs.  
> It should be easy to tell which are which

It had been almost a week since you were able to go back to the ISSD. You worked as a production assistant and while you normally worked in-office, that had been changed up with the start of this new project. Now you were working 10-12 hour days back to back on set, and you hadn't had a night of restful sleep since. You were glad when you were finally cut loose early for the day; it seemed too soon but you were already seeing flickers of him at the edges of your vision.  
Stumbling into the ISSD, you didn't notice him pacing nervously at the counter. You rushed to clock in, grabbing the tablet and a handful of peanut butter cracker packs that they kept near the clock. It was late, later than you normally came in. You'd be lucky if anyone even bothered to pick you up on a Tuesday night this slow. But the worst that could happen is you would lay on the slime anyway. It would be shit sleep, dealing with your nightmares, but you'd at least stay under.  
Flipping the sign to occupied, you collapsed on the chair and began opening and eating the pack of crackers. You hadn't really had a chance to eat all day and you were starving. You tensed as you saw him flicker in the corner of the room, and when your tablet went off it made you jump almost a mile out of your skin. Looking again, the corner was empty. Looking at the tablet, you were booked.  
It was with a relieved sigh that you tapped through to look at your clients info, and you were surprised with what you saw.  
K. Vantas. Male. 28 years old.  
The door in the other room clicked open and you saw him stumble in. He looked as jacked up as you felt and it was like deja vu when he slumped down in the chair, tossing the tablet onto the table and burying his face in his hands. You looked back down at your tablet, skimming through his profile to make sure nothing changed before opening up the chat client. You switched your text to red from that Rose-purple color and shoot a message into the dark. Or to his tablet. Y'know.

Derse: yo my man back for round two? 

You watch through the glass as his tablet lights up before dimming again. He doesn't move an inch. God. Big mood.  
You get up and start getting ready, might as well if he's gonna need a minute to get his shit together. You fill up the glass and put it near the tub and get as far as pulling off your shirt when your tablet lights up and chimes softly. He's sitting and tapping furiously at the tablet, head still resting in one hand. The tablet chimes again and you open it up.

Prospit: FUCK IM JUST SO GLAD YOURE IN TONIGHT. I FEEL LIKE A STEAMING COW PATTY THATS BEEN BLENDED UP AND FORCE-FED TO SOME INCOMPETENT JACKASS JUST TO BE THROWN UP AGAIN. AND THEN IM SCOOPED UP TO BE FED TO HIM AGAIN AD INFINITUM.  
Prospit: I FEEL LIKE IM GETTING SKULLFUCKED WITH A CHAINSAW WHILE SOMEONE HAS ALSO GENEROUSLY SET MY ENTIRE BRAIN ON FIRE. 

The messages were still coming in and you were torn between laughing so hard you could cry and also feeling really really bad. Sounds like he's not doing too hot either. You interrupt him before he could give you any more vivid and graphic descriptions of his current state.

Derse: yah man, same. ive been seein shit and everything.  
Derse: so lets get this party started  
Derse: ill be under in a jiff

You set the tablet back on the table and watch him do the same with a heavy sigh. He gets up and you get to see him up close for just a moment as he pulls the curtain half closed. It had been hard to tell through the tinted glass when he was farther away, but his skin was dark and ruddy, and his eyes were brilliantly dark and expressive. You felt that familiar studder in your chest and you only manage to fight the impulse to curl in on yourself when you remember he can't see you.  
You finish disrobing and set about the soothing ritual of putting the stickies in their correct spots. This tired, you fall back into the comforting habit of counting them as you go along and in no time you're done. You double check that you had that stupid infatuated feeling under heavy lock and key before slipping into the tub. You are out before you finish submerging.

Waking up in that empty white space was still jarring. It took a minute to orient yourself, looking around out of habit. Still nothing.  
You float to where Vantas was curled up in the center of the space. He was curled into the fetal position, hands grasping around his temples like even now his head was killing him. Never had you seen another dreamer sleep like this. He should be serene, face smoothed of any worries as his brain regurgitated his day in preparation for the next. Was he just holding it all in?  
A little thought wiggled it's way to the front of your brain. He said he was glad you were in. Had he been waiting for you?  
Your chest tightened and you bit your lip. No. Back in the box.  
You reached out gently to touch him.  
Your own head space was louder than normal. Flashing lights, images of cameras and voice clips of your boss asking for his coffee. Black and red smeared the edges of the jagged memories, and wow. Your subconscious was really hard at work breaking down and repacking the last week of your insane work schedule. You guess that's what happens when you only get a couple hours of nightmare addled sleep at a time.  
You turn to focus on the dream bubble pulling in as close as you could without touching it. People who had more control over their lucid dreaming could reach in and control the dream, even join it. If you touched it the whole thing would pop. Neither your nor Vantas needed that right now.  
This was a new one.  
It looked like some sort of jacked up water treatment plant, metal and concrete painted white and peeling away. The sun was high overhead and you could feel the memory of Texas heat roll over you. Vantas stood in the middle of the concrete jungle, looking around with mild interest. For a split second you wondered if somehow the bastard had stumbled in on a good dream. You couldn't even remember the last time you had one of those. You saw him flip around though, responding to a sound you couldn't hear outside the bubble and the jealousy melted away.  
Towards him barrelled a group of… well what do you call them? Costumed… characters? Like Mickey Mouse and Whinnie the Pooh and shit. Characters from movies you didn't get the luxury of watching as a child. They moved janky, wrong. Like fucked up puppets being pulled along on invisible strings. You shuddered, you could only imagine the terror you would feel if it was you in there.  
Clients in dreams could technically do whatever they wanted. These spaces that were made between the meetings of two lucid minds were as much under their control as yours. The dream would give them impulses, the narrative for what would be happening, but they didn't have to follow it. You knew what you would be doing though, and you watched Vantas turn and do the same, running into the maze of pipes as fast as his feet could carry him.  
He vaulted himself over rusting and peeling metal fences, ducking and squeezing between metal containers in the vain attempt to get away. You followed, floating inches away from the bubble as you wondered if this was stuff he could do, or if he was borrowing the memories of your skills. The suited-men-puppets followed at his heels though, reaching and grasping for him as he slipped away again, and again.  
He lurched out into an open space, canals lining either side of him and a vast expanse of painted concrete sprawling before him. You could see his pursuers behind him, tripping and yanking themselves over and under the obstacles like they had no feelings in their limbs.  
Ahead of him was a water tower. Well you assumed it was. It was tall and smooth, the base slanting up to hold a large round ball at the top that you would assume was the tank. Unlike everything else on the dream though there was greenery crawling up and around it. From the top thick heavy branches spread out. Vantas gave one look back before booking it towards the metal stairs that curled up around the side.  
He hadn't gotten far before the puppet things broke out from the maze behind him and you found yourself holding your breath. He made it to the stairs (fuck stairs) and began to run up them as fast as he could. You could see his chest heaving, the dream blurring and refocusing as he got closer to the top, closer to a rusted out hole in the side of the tank. He had put some distance between himself and those things, and you were relieved for him when he tripped over thick vines and into the room hidden away.  
It almost looked like the inside of a treehouse. Cozy, warm. Bookshelves lined the interior, with a small little fireplace that only worked in dream logic. There was a low table with a ceramic teapot, and thick plush rugs covered the floor. Vantas seemed as jarred as you would have been which makes sense, and took a nervous step in. You could see the costumed puppets climbing up the stairs and wondered if he could hear their feet on the metal.  
Then all at once a different costume appeared at a new hole in the left side of the tank. It was… Tigger? Vantas jumped out of his skin and stumbled back towards the table and fireplace, putting his fists up like it would do anything. This one was… different though.  
It moved naturally, taking one step forward as it's hands moved up to take a hold of the mask. A few tugs and a twist, it popped off, resting the mask on its hip. Long curls cascaded down and you smiled at the face you saw. Large, round coke bottle glasses, buck teeth. You couldn't help but smile as she reached out, offering a hand.  
You saw him consider her, before jumping and looking at the hole he crawled through. The puppets were getting close. He looked back at her, back at Jade fucking Harley coming through to try and save you in your dreams and hesitantly, he reached out and grabbed her fur covered hand. The first puppet pulled itself through the rusted hole, and she turned pulling him out the hole she came through onto an open air bridge that hadn't existed before. As he passed through the threshold the dream crackled to white.

You woke up with a start, sputtering a bit as you sat up. Falling asleep so quickly meant you hadn't had a chance to hold your breath before being fully submerged and now it was in your mouth. Bluh.  
Grabbing for your water you chugged it, happy to rid your mouth of the taste. You climb out, wires popping harmlessly as you grab the towel and wipe yourself down. Did you replace the clean boxers in your locker after last time? You grimace, folding yourself into the purple robe and plopping down at the table. Probably not.  
Vantas was already seated, bundled up in the yellow Prospit robe and tapping away at the tablet. His face seemed content and relaxed, and he wasn't desperately rubbing at his temples so you assume his headache had passed in the 8 or so hours you both were under. That's good.  
You speed through the questions, you had to leave yourself time to get back to your shitty apartment and clean up for work. The section on Vantas went quicker this time, and when you looked up there he was again, pausing before giving a short wave and leaving. You pressed through to the comment he left this time

ITS REALLY FUCKING NICE TO HAVE A NIGHTMARE THAT ISNT SO FUCKING FAKE. LIKE WANNABE HORROR WRITER BULLSHIT. THIS IS SO FUCKING REFRESHING. SO FUCKING PERFECT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments are appreciated, constructive or otherwise. I know some of the tense agreement is wild up in here.  
> You can find me at [uncannycory](https://uncannycory.tumblr.com/) on tumblr  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

You were supposed to have a couple days off shortly after your last visit to the ISSD. You had honestly been looking forward to it, the sweet chance at several nights of soothing sleep. No nightmares, no fear, no waking up almost every hour on the goddamn hour. But obviously that didn't happen.  
One scene that had been on lock got fucked up last second. The production company didn't want to pay overtime to the union so they were called in the next day to reshoot. That worked out but from that point on it seemed like the entire set was playing a game of never ending catchup and it was a whole 'nother week before you found yourself standing in front of the door to the ISSD, jumpy and shaky in your skin. You turned off your phone and headed in.  
You had been lucky to have one chance to go into the ISSD that week, but it had sort of been a wash. A blind girl who sometimes came in picked you up on Thursday night, settling for you when any dreamer worthwhile wasn't available. You had dreamt with her before and she explained that a lot of people who were blind had trouble sleeping and she had a court case the next morning, so she was maybe a little desperate like you. It had gone poorly, she had reacted pretty badly to your nightmares. No surprise that it had turned out the same this time.  
Halfway through she forced herself to wake up, and before you were even out of the tub your tablet was pinging rapidly with her apologies, and that of course she would pay her "favorite coolkid" for the full eight hour slot. It had left you feeling groggy and sick the rest of the next day.  
So you were glad to be back. You were desperate for a deep sleep and for that fucking hell ghost to get off your back. You autopiloted through clocking in, grabbing the tablet and handful of snacks and you were in your room and sitting in your chair before you were even fully aware of the fact.  
You hoped someone would come in tonight. God you fucking hoped.  
You ate through several packs of fruit gummies and double checked to see if you had remembered to flip your room sign to occupied (you hadn't) before anything notable happened. Not that the notable thing that happened was good. You had closed the door again and when you turned around well…  
He was there.  
It wasn't a glimpse, a flash of him. It wasn't a shadow following you on the bus at night. He stood there plain as day with his white polo shirt and black slacks and shitty shades and that unreadable expression. You don't know how long you stood there, frozen in a vain hope he wouldn't see you. You didn't have your sword, you were unarmed. There was nowhere to go. You were backed against the edge of a roof and desperate.  
A gentle chime, he looked up at you. That barely there smirk, he was after you.  
You didn't have a choice. You couldn't run, you would fall off the fucking roof again. So you did the only thing you could. You lunged, fists up as you went for a weak point.  
You hit the side of the tub, the metal tray clattered against the floor. For a minute all you could hear was your pounding heart, but as that subsided you were finally able to place where you were again, what was happening. The tablet chimed rapidly from where it fell on the floor in your mad dash to… what? Protect yourself? You look around desperately, no one was there.  
You picked up the tablet and opened it, your hands still shaking badly from the adrenaline.

Prospit: HEY YOU THERE?  
Prospit: NORMALLY YOU WOULD BE SAYING INANE SHIT TO ME RIGHT NOW.  
Prospit: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT NOISE?!  
Prospit: ARE YOU OKAY?  
Prospit: HOLY HELL ANSWER ME.  
Prospit: PROSPIT TO DERSE ARE YOU THERE?  
Prospit: FUCK IT IM CALLING A NURSE

Fuck, no. No no no. At least that one was recent. You didn't even bother to change your text color as you willed your trembling fingers to cooperate.  


Derse: yo man im cool im fine  
Derse: just had some hallucination shit happening  
Derse: no big im here now

The little text bubble saying the Prospit suite was typing popped up and you were relieved. Hopefully he didn't have a chance to call the nurse. Didn't really want to explain that one.

Prospit: HOLY FUCK ARE YOU OKAY?  
Prospit: IVE NEVER HEARD SOMETHING LIKE THAT ARE YOU HURT? DO YOU NEED THE NURSE?

You had taken the time he was typing to switch your text to your normal red. It made you feel a little better, and perhaps a little less like Rose was peeking through your eyes at this horrible scene. She'd have a field day with this. Good thing you wouldn't be telling her about it.

Derse: nah man im cool  
Derse: just fell into the tray thing  
Derse: just need to sleep  
Derse: lemme clean up from the fuckin party i just threw for myself and ill be right under okay man?

You got an all caps "OKAY" and sighed in relief, looking back up to really gauge the mess you made. It luckily wasn't much, and you fixed the tray and righted the chair you fell over and the room looked pretty much back to normal. You picked up the remaining gummy packets from the floor, putting them back on the table and moved to the sink to fill your water cup. You downed the first cup before refilling it again and walked over to put it on the metal tray.  
Looking to the window, you were surprised to see the curtain wasn't drawn like usual. He must have forgotten with all the ruckus you caused. You looked away politely, undressing yourself and applying the wires automatically. A brief glimpse through the mirror and he was easing himself into the tub, eyes fluttering lightly as he fell asleep quickly. You tore your eyes away, electing to give him the privacy he normally wanted as you slipped yourself into your own tub. You barely got a breath in before your body pulled you under as well.

The all white dream space was disorienting as always, but never had you been more relieved to be there. You weren't normally one to find comfort in silence, but somewhere along the line your brain recognized that this emptiness meant a full night's sleep. No freaked out clients who couldn't handle it, no 8 hour stints in the tub dealing with the nightmares on your own in a desperate attempt to stay under.  
You had never understood it before, but the blank canvas of Vantas's mind might have been the closest thing to a safe space you'd ever been in.  
You floated to the center to find him, curled up with worry etched all over his face. He was tucked up in a fetal position again, but this time one arm was stretched out like he was reaching for something. What was it? What was he locking away so completely?  
You wished you could stay here in the quiet, maybe curl up next to him. Actually, nothing was really stopping you from doing that. One foot reached out tentatively, finding the solid white floor that was indistinguishable from the white space surrounding it. You landed, then knelt. Then you laid down, letting the cool non feeling of the dreamscape press up against you. You pulled your legs up to your chest, looking into Vantas's worried face for something. You don't know what. You slowly pulled your hand out from where it was clutched against your chest and you reached out for him, making a perfect mirror as you grasp his hand.  
Your dreamscape was a lot darker than normal, a lot louder. Your boss's voices overlapped with loud, clanging metal and oh what you would do to make it stop.  
Memories from your work week melted together with memories from your childhood melted with your most recent experience visiting the ISSD and you wanted to vomit. You try your best to block everything out and turn to the bubble in the center of your dream space. It seemed larger, more tense than usual, you'd have to be more careful.  
You floated as close as you could to the bubble, peering into an uncommonly dark dream.  
There was a spotlight on him. He was tied down to a chair, something that looked like it could have come out of a movie theatre or broadway location. He was tied around his wrists, his ankles, his neck. Your heart was pounding for him already, he was wide open and vulnerable.  
Another spotlight flickered on in front of him, on a stage. It illuminated the dream a little more; you could see empty chairs around Vantas, deep red curtains around the edge of a stage. And on stage… oh.  
Dirk.  
Oh no no _no._ No, Dirk. You didn't know what was coming but you didn't want this. You didn't want him to see this. But… but you couldn't. You could, all you had to do was reach out and pop the bubble, you would both wake up. But you _couldn't,_ or this would follow you into your waking life again. And next time maybe your freak out wouldn't be at home or the ISSD, maybe it would be at work. Then where would you be?  
Dirk was standing on stage, confused. His face was blank, that good ol' Strider charm, but you knew it in the way he held himself. Tense, unsure, ready to fight or flight at a moments notice.  
Dirk stopped when his eyes landed on Vantas, the edges of panic creeping into his face. You could see his mouth move, _Dave,_ and you felt your heart in your throat. He took a step forward, then-  
It all happened at once.  
Shadows sprang up around him, the shadow of _him._ They were grabbing Dirk, tearing at his clothes and hair and pushing, punching, kicking him to the ground. You were shaking, tears creeping down your cheeks. For the first time since you became a regular at the ISSD you wished you could lucid dream correctly, stop this fresh hell your brain made just for you and inflicted on-  
Vantas. You look at him stuck in that shitty red theatre seat and he was struggling, fighting hard against the binds. Not just the rope though, no. Dark shadow hands were reaching from the dark, grabbing and holding him and forcing his eyes open. Tears rolled down Vantas's cheeks as he was forced to watch your brother, one of your best fucking friends get beaten.  
And you wondered, rubbing tears from your cheeks as you hiccuped and shook, what Vantas knew. Dreams would give the clients the info they need, just like you would just sort of know and accept dream logic when you were dreaming. Did the dream give him brother? Did the dream give him gay? Autistic? Did the dream give him that crushing feeling of failure, that you couldn't protect the person who protected you your whole life?  
Did the dream give him... _him?_  
You were so ready to pop this damn bubble, but as you raised your hand to slap it things began to rapidly change. Pausing, you leaned in again to look.  
Vantas managed to break free, you didn't see how. But the hands were gone and the shadows on stage were gone and he was tearing the rope off of him as fast as he could. When he managed that he jolted up as fast as he could, almost tripping over the rope that was still tangled loose around the seat. He somehow remained upright though, booking it as fast as he could to the edge of the stage and pulling himself up and sort of rolling over the edge. He scrambled to Dirk, lying limp on stage. You couldn't tell if he was breathing.  
Vantas gently took off Dirk's glasses, something that makes you cringe but you knew. You knew it was what you would do.  
He cradled Dirk in his arms, pressing his forehead against his. The lights began dropping one by one until the last one, the spotlight on stage, flickered out.  
You jolted up from the tub with enough of a start that you managed to have the slime sloshing over the edges. Fuck, you'd have to wipe that up for them. You hated leaving a mess for the cleaning crew. You tried to hold onto that thought, mostly because you didn't want to handle any of the other one's bound to come after.  
It was inevitable. You could conceivably just stay in the tub, ignore it all until you maybe got picked up by another client. But just because it was your day off today didn't mean you wouldn't have to eventually face your feelings.  
And honestly, despite how shit the whole night seemed, you were feeling really well rested.  
So you pulled yourself from the tub and wiped yourself and the side of the tub down. You put on the fluffy purple robe and you sat down, picking up the tablet. The little red light at the top flashed, saying you managed to miss several messages during your space out.

Prospit: ARE YOU OKAY?  
Prospit: HELLO?  
Prospit: FINE ILL FILL OUT THESE STUPID FORMS BUT GET BACK TO ME.

You blinked. Are _you_ okay? He was the one who just went through all that. You weren't okay of course, you were barely staving off the panicked urge to call your brother and demand to know if he's alive and okay. But he just went through all that, not you.

Derse: shit man yah im fine  
Derse: why?  
Derse: you good?

Prospit: OH GOOD YOURE ALIVE  
Prospit: IM FINE. IT WAS WHAT I NEEDED AS ALWAYS.  
Prospit: BUT I THOUGHT DREAMERS WERE ENCOURAGED TO KEEP AN EYE ON THE DREAM  
Prospit: AND THAT DREAM WAS…

Derse: nah man shit im cool.  
Derse: hang on tho, gotta make a call

Prospit: ...TO YOUR… BROTHER?

You grimace at that. What he said was true, but he shouldn't say it. You lift one hand and make the face at the one way glass, playing up the old [meme](https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/001/398/805/2d2.jpg) for the audience of yourself as you turn your phone back on. You click through to call Dirk before it could even load up properly.  
"Sup."  
You hadn't realized you were holding tension in your body until it was melting away. Dirk was alive. Dirk was okay. Dirk was… saying your name repeatedly.  
"Dave. Daaaaave. Dave fuck man did you pocket dial me?"  
" No." Your voice cracked from emotion. Stress, fear, and so much fucking relief.  
"Shit man, you okay?"  
"Just… needed to hear you." A long pause, you fidget with the tie on the robe. How the hell after so long can you still be reduced to this? A child crawling to his older brother after a bad dream. A bad dream you didn't even experience. How much worse could it have been?  
"Another nightmare?" His voice was so soft and gentle, a blanket over all the stress.  
"Yah."  
"I thought you went to the fuckin uhhh… fuck the dream place last night."  
"I did."  
"Shit that bad?"  
"Yah."  
"Wanna talk about it?" It was your turn to initiate the silence. Did you wanna talk about it? Never actually. But that wouldn't be the answer Dirk wanted to hear.  
"Maybe later."  
"So it won't happen."  
"I gotta finish up here. Will be home in a lil' while."  
"Aight."  
He hung up rather unceremoniously, but it was so very him in a way that was comforting. You turned back to your tablet, it had chimed quietly a couple times during your phone call.

Prospit: IM TAKING YOUR SILENCE TO MEAN YOU ARE ON THE PHONE NOW  
Prospit: OKAY I KNOW THIS IS A WEIRD QUESTION SO DONT ANSWER IT IF YOU DONT WANT I GUESS BUT WHEN ARE YOU NORMALLY HERE?  
Prospit: IM NOT TRYING TO BE CREEPY I JUST…  
Prospit: YOU KNOW MAYBE THERE WAS NO WAY TO NOT BE CREEPY ABOUT THIS.  
Prospit: I JUST GET REALLY GOOD SLEEP WITH YOU.

The last message was from maybe five minutes ago, and looking up from the tablet he was still tapping away on the tablet, but it didn't seem like he was typing in the messaging app. No lil bubble.

Derse: so i normally wouldnt just give my schedule to anyone but shit man  
Derse: my schedules fucked up as it is right now  
Derse: im supposed to be off thursday and fridays but my jobs a fuckin mess so its been a crapshoot  
Derse: like my jobs all like rollin those dice just like how can we fuck up this mans day more  
Derse: oh its snake eyes hope he likes a 10 day work week  
Derse: but if shits not fucked im normally in wednesday, thursday and friday nights

You look up, Vantas seemed to have stopped typing and was looking at the screen intently. Then you see it, a tiny, amused smile. You can't believe that after all you went through last night, your traitor heart still has the audacity to flutter in your chest.

Prospit: SO THAT MEANS YOU WILL BE HERE TONIGHT?

Derse: yeh

Prospit: HOLY SHIT IM GOING TO GO TO WORK SO WELL RESTED TOMORROW

Does this mean that he was waiting for you? Ohhh man. Fuck maybe this wasn't just gonna be a little infatuation.  
Maybe you had a little crush.

Derse: see you tonight then man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and criticism appreciated as always.  
> And if you haven't, go read [dsi's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSi) fic. They are the absolute best.  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is twice as long as normal chapters. I had initially thought to split it in two, but there didnt really seem to be a good place imo.  
> Hope you enjoy, even with my loving and liberal use of italics

It was only really when you got home that you actually bothered to look at all the notifications, messages, articles and emails that were queued up on your phone. Most of it wasn't special. A couple messages from people trying to hit you up about doing something unspecified with SBAHJ that you ignore, some messages from Rose, Dirk and Jade that you shoot some quick replies off to. You only really slowed down when you sat yourself down with a bowl of cereal and began looking through the articles your phone suggested to you.  
There were a couple about the movie you were working on, which made sense because you had Dirk show you how to put in keywords to have those pushed to you. It was a little early you think for things to be coming out about it, but when you skim the articles it looks like they were just making a big deal about how someone leaked it was being made at all. You close them with little interest. It was the other article that really made you set your bowl of cereal down and look with curiosity though. It was about the ISSD. You tap through to get the whole title.  


**SkaiaNet Announces Intentions to buy ISSD after Court Moves Forward with Lawsuit**

  
Oh yah. That fucking thing. You rub your temples and skim through the page. The class action lawsuit hadn't been reported extensively about so far, but you knew the details pretty thoroughly. The letter inviting you into it was still hung on the fridge after all, a sticky note from Dirk on it urging you to send the form back to them before the date noted on it. You were affected during the worst of it of course. Back before the Derse and Prospit suite thing was implemented, before they realized how many HIPAA laws they were breaking with the information they just let clients look at.  
It made stalking easy. You had one and tee-bee-heych it was the worst. Your off and on hallucinations were already pinging your paranoia something crazy, and the bitch wouldn't stay away. She had your name so she found your comic. She found your comic, she found your blog. She found your blog, she found your soundcloud. She found your soundcloud, she found your insta. She eventually got your phone number from _someone_ and suddenly you couldn't fucking have your phone on at all because she was blowing it up something scary. That made your job really hard and you ended up having to change your number and getting a restraining order.  
You ended up finding out who spilled your number to her by holding your new number hostage from everyone until they swore up and down it wasn't them. It ended up being a coworker. She had caught him and said she was a coworker from another job that lost your number. Most of your immediate coworkers knew you had a second job though not many knew what and Cronus, the bastard, just gave her your number. Acted like he's done you a favor by giving a "hot chick" your digits. He had been let go shortly after you told your bosses what he had done to you.  
And if you think you had it bad, you weren't even a _popular_ dreamer. In places like California and New York, there were dream _celebrities._ It was so stupid but you worked Hollywood and understood the idea, and at the time with your identities just out there like that it only took a good imagination and a online following to rise in popularity and fame. You knew scouts who had even used the ISSD to scope new talent. It skeeved you the hell out.  
And even after all the policy changes, the new rooms implemented, you still don't think they did enough. Sure, you were just Derse Dreamer DS-and-a-string-of-numbers now, but look how much info you got on the Prospit dreamers? Hell, take even Vantas for example, with a last name like that you didn't even need a first name to probably find _something_ about him online. You understood why the lawsuit was going forward in court, hell you even thought it was a good thing. But… you couldn't.  
It was even right there in the article. The ISSD would surely bankrupt and close down even if they managed to settle out of court. The clinics seemed to just barely stay open with the money they made from their cut of what clients brought in. From what little you understood of it they weren't exactly rolling in grant money, and they had to cover costs somehow.  
And what the _hell_ would you do if the clinics shut down?  
Would it be back to medication roulette? You almost lost your job with how often you slept through alarms when on sleep meds. Even when cutting them in halves, quarters. Even when you had Dirk desperately trying to shake you awake. And therapy was okay, but it really only made the nightmares worse and you couldn't, _couldn't_ have one of your hallucination freak outs at work.  
So SkaiaNet bidding to buy the ISSD should be _good_ news, everything considered, but that brought a whole new list of worries.  
You snapped out of your deep whirlpool of thoughts when you heard a door click shut softly behind you and near silent footsteps coming towards you. You were on your feet in an instant, sword in hand. Dirk stood there, hands up and that cool, stoic look on his face. You drop the sword and lunge forward to hug him.  
"Didn't know you were home yet." An apology of sorts coming from Dirk. He wrapped his arms around you awkwardly, one hand coming to rest on the back of your head to support you like you were still a child.  
"Not long." You mumble into his chest, soaking in the comfort of your very alive brother. Your brain oh so helpfully played back to you what you watched Vantas experience and your breath hitched. A suppressed sob.  
You couldn't stop yourself, you pull away just far enough for you to shove your shades onto your head and then reach out to do the same to Dirk. He tenses, but lets you. Then you're leaning up, pressing his forehead against his and hoping to fucking gods that the warmth on your cheeks wasn't tears as you hiccup, all the stress hitting and overwhelming you at once.  
His hand finds the back of your head again ruffling your hair and shooshing you. He breathes deeply against you, then again and you understand what he's trying to do. You focus on the rise and fall of his chest against yours as he leads you through one of his breathing exercises.  
When you were finally calm enough to think rationally you immediately pulled yourself out the awkwardly long hug you had forced Dirk into. Shoving your shades back down on your face, you watch Dirk do the same. You aggressively rubbed the not tears off your face and swallowed thickly, shifting from one foot to the other and back again trying to find words to say anything.  
"Did you want to talk about it?" You watched as Dirk began to do his routine to decompress himself after prolonged touch and you feel bad. He ran his hands over his arms in a brief brushing motion repeatedly, moving onto his chest and then his face. It was like he was trying to brush dirt off himself, or maybe kind of aggressively warm himself off after coming in from the cold. You flop on the couch kind of deflated and he does the same after he finishes. Despite the shades, you know he's watching you, waiting for a reply.  
"Not really." You finally manage to mutter. He shrugs, grabbing his phone to turn on Netflix. You grab your bowl of cereal and push it around as he turns on My Little Pony. It idly reminds you that you had yet to read the weird little essay he had sent you about why Big Mac was the best side character in the show like you promised you would. At this rate he had probably added at least another thousand words.  
At some point he switched to Hulu and turned on How It's Made. You forced yourself to finish your cereal despite how soggy it's gotten, you just can't bring yourself to waste food even after all this time. Your broken ass brain would just keep screaming about how you fucked up, how you couldn't guarantee when you'd get food again even though that's long since stopped being an issue.  
" I promise… I'll talk about it just…" you hear yourself talking, but it sounds so far away and unlike you, " Just not now okay? It's too close."  
Dirk thankfully nods silently, and you both watch a couple more episodes of How It's Made before getting up to do the chores you'd both been putting off until your weekend.  
It was the first time you actually noticed him there when you got in. He was looking at his tablet listlessly, tapping away at what you assumed was one of the free games that are available for those waiting for a free Derse Dreamer. This time you know though, he's waiting for you.  
Your heart does a neat little kickflip and you have to stop yourself from your immediate impulse to wave at him. He didn't know what you looked like, you reminded yourself, clocking in and grabbing a tablet before heading to the room you considered yours. The tablet chimed gently as you flipped the sign to "occupied".  
Something in you felt a little light, free,despite all the things you had given yourself to worry over this morning. Seeing him waiting for you, it was like a mental blanket. It was like the calm silence of his dreamspace had crawled into your chest and quieted everything that had been rattling there. It was a promise that at least tonight, everything would be okay again.  
You set your tablet down, filling your glass of water and eating one of the granola bars you had grabbed from near the time clock when you heard the other door open and you saw him shuffle in. Your heart beat in time to the idea that he waited for you, you! It was stupid, you knew that you were just medicine for him, just like he was for you, but when you saw that kinda grumpy smile on his face as he settled into the chair you didn't care. It's how crushes were after all. Messy and persistent. You settled yourself down at the table as the tablet lit up and chimed.

Prospit: HEY

Derse: long time no see my man

Prospit: HELL YAH.  
Prospit: IM SO FUCKING PSYCHED, I DONT KNOW HOW LONG ITS BEEN SINCE IVE HAD TWO GOOD NIGHTS OF SLEEP IN A ROW  
Prospit: IM GOING TO GO INTO WORK TOMORROW AND THEYLL THINK IM HIGH OR SOMETHING WHEN I DONT LOOK LIKE IM DIEING 

Derse: hell yah.  
Derse: lets freak out your coworkers  
Derse: ill be in in a sec

Prospit: WAIT  
Prospit: I HAVE A QUESTION

You had already stood up and begun pulling off your shirt and stopped, leaning back over the table curiously. This was new. Normally he was ready to jump right in.

Prospit: TWO QUESTIONS ACTUALLY

Derse: go ahead shoot

You settled back onto the chair, folding your shirt and setting it on the table.

Prospit: DID YOU SEE THE NEWS TODAY?

Derse: what about that movie coming out  
Derse: that was hardly what i call news  
Derse: more like a huge cocktease  
Derse: all the articles like "news on that one shitty book being made into a shitty movie!"  
Derse: then its just the title and thats its in production  
Derse: and now you have curiosity blue balls for at least another year or so before any other actual interesting news comes out

You of course know what he's actually talking about, but it's absolutely adorable to see his eyebrows furrow and his mouth scrunch up like that. You watch him angrily jab at the screen to reply.

Prospit: FIRST THAT BOOK IS GREAT AND IM REALLY EXCITED FOR THAT MOVIE SO SHUT UP  
Prospit: SECOND I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE NEWS ABOUT THE INSTITUTE YOU ABSOLUTE DUMBASS

Derse: i know  
Derse: just pulling your leg  
Derse: seems like i got it real good too  
Derse: just popped that leg right off and now you need a prosthetic  
Derse: my bro could probably make you a robot one if thats gonna be a problem  
Derse: least i can do for like, pullin your leg like that

Prospit: OH MY GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP

Derse: but yah i read the news  
Derse: the institute even sent out an email about it  
Derse: what about it?

Ugh, is this gonna be a thing now? Clients coming in and asking for more info? A flutter of anxiety took root in the peaceful white space that had opened up in your chest.

Prospit: I DIDN'T KNOW THERE WAS A LAWSUIT GOING ON  
Prospit: MY FAMILY JUST MOVED DOWN HERE FROM WASHINGTON A COUPLE MONTHS BACK AND THE ISSD ISNT NEARLY AS BIG UP THERE  
Prospit: THERE WERE JUST A COUPLE OPENING UP IN SEATTLE AND SPOKANE WHEN WE WERE LEAVING  
Prospit: AND WHEN I TRIED LOOKING IT UP ONLINE THERE ISNT REALLY A WHOLE LOT ON IT

Derse: well bro just you wait  
Derse: with how big the news on this buy out is im sure all the fuckin news outlets will be on information about it like a horny nun on a sexy jesus statue  
Derse: she knows what she wants  
Derse: she keeps coming back to it  
Derse: she walked through that valley of the shadow of death and sexy crucified jeezey boy is her thing now  
Derse: you could even say its her bad…  
Derse: habit

Prospit: OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT  
Prospit: I JUST WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU KNEW ANYTHING ABOUT THE LAWSUIT  
Prospit: LIKE… IS THIS GOING TO CHANGE ANYTHING?

It was stupid, but seeing him put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh did something to you. It was hard to even be too anxious over the questions he was asking, you just kind of wanted to see him laugh like that again. You pushed that down to answer him though.

Derse: yah i know what the lawsuit was about  
Derse: the ISSD fucked up a bunch of privacy shit a while back  
Derse: us derse dreamers had our names and shit put out there and people took advantage of that  
Derse: dunno how things will change though  
Derse: for real the email we were sent just said that the acquisition wont be immediate and that they would keep us updated  
Derse: shit was mad vague and frustrating  
Derse: as far as I know were cool for now

He looked pensive about that information. You kinda feel bad even that you didn't have it in you to explain it more. At least with the information you gave him he might be able to find more details online.

Prospit: OKAY SECOND QUESTION THEN

Derse: yeh

Prospit: IS YOUR NAME… DAVE?

The little sprout of anxiety that had pushed into your chest at the first question exploded. You felt like you could hardly breathe, you could hear ringing in your ears. The white space in your chest was destroyed, leaving nothing but the metallic clanging of your heartbeat to pulse through you. Your hands shook as you replied.

Derse: yah  
Derse: god please dont be weird about this  
Derse: ive already had one stalker from this fuckin place  
Derse: i honestly dont have the time to deal with that shit again

You watch him closely as he realised what you were saying, watching him do the mental math as he put together what you had said about the lawsuit and the information you just gave him. It might have been cute if your whole body wasn't screaming run run run.

Prospit: OH FUCK NO I UH  
Prospit: IN THE DREAM LAST NIGHT  
Prospit: YOUR BROTHER CALLED ME DAVE  
Prospit: I FELT BAD, WONDERING IF I KNEW YOUR NAME AND YOU DONT EVEN KNOW MINE  
Prospit: ITS KARKAT  
Prospit: I JUST WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT

He looked as wound up with anxiety as you felt. Maybe he thought you were going to drop him, cancel this shit and never accept him as a client again. You had to admit it was your first thought. Where would that leave you both then though? He'd be a dreamless insomniac bouncing around trying to find good nightmares and you'd be there waiting for someone, anyone to pick you up. You would give him the benefit of the doubt… for now.

Derse: nah man its cool

You lied.

Derse: like i have some basic deets on you  
Derse: and i can fukin see you and shit and you dont even know what i look like  
Derse: you dont need to come out with all the personal shit  
Derse: you aint hurtin my feelings any

His face twisted and it looked almost like… guilt. It made your heart hammer with dread in your chest.

Prospit: THATS… NOT EXACTLY TRUE

Derse: what

Prospit: IN THE DREAMS… IF THERES A REFLECTIVE SURFACE IT DOESNT REFLECT ME  
Prospit: IT REFLECTS YOU  
Prospit: IM ASSUMING ITS BECAUSE IT EXPECTS YOU TO BE THERE

Derse: fuck

Prospit: I MEAN ITS NOT LIKE I GET A CLEAR IMAGE OF YOU  
Prospit: ITS NOT LIKE YOU HAVE MIRRORS LITTERED ALL OVER YOUR DREAMS  
Prospit: BUT IM NOT GONNA LIE I THINK IVE SEEN YOU COME IN BEFORE

You felt sick. The pounding in your chest has summoned a painful harmony in your head. You get up and grab the water from the tray and chug it, going to the sink to refill it and do it again. What do you do. Are you in danger again? Should you stop this before it can get worse? The tablet chimes several times from on the table where you left it and you refill your cup again before going to look at it.

Prospit: ARE YOU THERE?  
Prospit: FUCK IM SORRY  
Prospit: IM NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING WITH THIS  
Prospit: PLEASE DONT GO  
Prospit: YOU ARE LITERALLY THE BEST THING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME SINCE MOVING TO THIS DAMNED STATE

The pounding in your heart was interrupted with something more innocent. The clash of emotions made you feel sick, your anxiety spiking higher. You pick the tablet up shakily and reply.

Derse: im gonna go under now

The bubble saying that Prospit was replying popped up but you dim the tablet. You put the glass of water back on the tray and you hear the tablet chime and the curtain get drawn half way as you pull off your pants. You don't even bother to wait to insure he gets in first, you apply the wires and climb into the tub, willing the sleep to take it all away.  
Your own dreamspace is a fuckin mess. Grinding, clanging metal. Dark red. Deep blacks. Oozing. Flickers of shadows that drive your conscious insane. Smears of memories of your stalker bleed into memories of Bro bleed into your anxieties about the buyout crash into the regurgitation of your work week. When it all began to fizzle out to white it was a relief, even if you know you'd be back soon enough.  
You let yourself just enjoy the silence, even as the crushing anxiety tries to ruin it all. You close your eyes, trying to remember and mimic the breathing exercise your brother led you through this morning. When you open your eyes again it feels like Vanta- Karkat's whole subconscious is breathing with you.  
Whatever happens, even if you never come to this dreamscape again, you are safe here. You will get eight hours of sleep. You will wake up well rested and you won't have hallucinations. You will be able to go to work on Saturday and think clearly. The white space almost seems to ripple as you breathe out. It's strange, but comforting.  
You don't know how long it takes but you do eventually calm yourself. Not that time means a whole lot here. But it does mean that it's time to get to work. You float down to where Karkat is, he's wound up and expressive as always. You tentatively kneel next to him, resting on your heels as you let all the anxiety inducing thoughts wash over you more calmly.  
Do you really think he would stalk you? Your trauma brain screams yes but your more rational one…  
Well what would he gain from it? And furthermore what would he gain from telling you he had any information about you at all? He could have quietly gathered more info, kept it on the down low and creep on you that way. It's what that chick did until she got your number. It's also the same sort of underhanded shit Bro did. No one who wanted anything would have shown their hand this early.  
And if you found out he was doing anything, you could stop taking him as a client. He would have known when telling you that that'd be a possibility, and you know how much that would hurt him. You remember that first night he walked in, it had reminded you so vividly of when you had walked into the ISSD months before that. Somehow, against all odds, he seemed to have this idea that it had to be you. Would he risk it?  
Your trauma brain still screams yes. Your logical brain ( and maybe, you admit to yourself, your emotional heart) wants to think no.  
You reach out and touch his shoulder gently.  
Your brain was quieter than when you left it. It was still grinding and clanging metal, but it seemed to fade back to a distant thrum. The memories were still angry and sharp, but they bled together more seamlessly and slipped away quickly. You turned to the dream bubble waiting for you and you pull in close. You wondered what your brain would concoct after the emotional roller coaster of your day.  
The dream flickered to life, a grainy black and white footage. A title card appeared before you, but in that dream way you could make out the shapes of the letters but not the words. It looked like a horror film and you almost wanted to laugh. What did he say in that comment one time? That your dreams weren't like a shitty horror film? How ironic.  
You see a house you recognize, and there aren't many of those so it only takes a minute to parse it out as John's childhood home. You had been there once, the summer you considered to be the best of your life. You still don't know why Bro let you go, you've had your theories over the years, but that July Fourth weekend had been like a breath of fresh air. It's when you realized what family was supposed to be like.  
Karkat fell into the picture from what you guess would be considered off screen. He fell right onto his ass, which you would have found very funny if he wasn't so desperately scrabbling to move back, away. Slowly, onto the screen crept the real nightmare.  
A swarm of disembodied hands crept and scurried on screen. They moved like spiders, quickly and kinda creepily, and they were dead set on going after Vantas. They grabbed at him, clinging to his shoes and pants and shirt and god they just kept coming. Hundreds of them.  
You watch him jolt away, scooting impractically back on his ass and kicking them off before doing his best to roll over and push himself up. It was all going so quickly. He managed to stumble to his feet, still kicking and desperately trying to get these hands off as they dug and scratched. It was grainy, but you think he's bleeding. He does manage to break free and book it though.  
You skim over the surface of the bubble to follow him as the angle shifts. He's running towards this group of townhouses a street over. You see the shared green space come into view, as well as the pool that you remember John teaching you to swim in. He's managed to put a little distance between him and the swarm, but he's still pushing himself faster, harder.  
He almost trips over the curb.  
You can see the panic, he swings his arms desperately and he barely manages to catch himself. The hands are coming, he looks around frantically and you see it when he recognizes it. A door to the left is open. It was a friend of John's house. You went there with John and all the kid would talk about was Yugioh and Pokemon and Peter Pan. You managed to get him to rap with you a bit too, it was funny.  
Karkat sprints off that way, to what the dream suggests as safety. The screen slams behind him, and he slams the door closed as well for good measure. The hands are scratching at the screen, clawing it open, they are piling on top of each other, pawing and grabbing at the knob. You assume he can hear this because he scans the room desperately before deciding to book it up the (fuck) stairs.  
He barely makes it to the top before the front door swings open violently, the hands pouring through the holes in the tattered screen as Karkat books it down the hall to the one room you recognize. He slams the door shut behind him and presses his back against it. He's cornered.  
He looks around the room desperately, stopping with shock when his eyes hit the mirrored sliding closet doors. Your heart drops a little. He was right, it does reflect you back.  
You were younger, your clothes loose on you the way they were when you weren't really fed regularly or well. Your old record shirt, your old glasses John gave you before you had to switch them out for prescription shades. It was you, fifteen and fearful.  
Karkat seems wildly uncomfortable, only tearing his eyes away when two hands scratch angrily at his shins. He looks around, Tavros's dead body laying in a corner, hands missing. At the bedroom door hands scratching, pushing, banging. The hands at his legs climbing, pulling themselves up and he pulled one off, throwing it against the wall angrily. When the other one's nails dig into his flesh though he automatically lurches forward to pull it off and the door behind him gives.  
You see him freeze in terror, scrambling towards the corner of the room farthest from the dead body as hands flood in.  
You have to look away as they pry his hands from the ends of his arms.

It's the calmest you'd woken up in several visits, and you appreciate it despite the grogginess. You climb out of the tub and grab your towel, going through the normal routine before sitting at the table. The tablet is still blinking from the last message you ignored last night, and you settle down to look at it as you see Karkat plop into the chair in the opposite room. When you turn on the tablet the bubble saying that Prospit was typing was on the bottom of the chat client.

Prospit: OKAY  
Prospit: FUCK IM SO SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO FUCK

He's sorry again. Huh.

Prospit: THE MIRROR FUCK. YOU SEEMED TO FREAK OUT WHEN I SAID THAT AND OF COURSE I JINXED IT BY TALKING ABOUT MIRRORS IN YOUR DREAMS  
Prospit: IM SORRY

Ah. That.

Derse: its cool man  
Derse: im just sittin here chillin out maxin and relaxin all cool  
Derse: might even go play some b ball outside of the school

You watch him go from upset to kind of surprised, before that crooked smile spreads across his face to be hidden by his hand. That's good. Can't have both of you leaving here feeling like you were put through the emotional wringer.

Derse: did you plan on coming back tonight?

Prospit: MAYBE. I HAVE WORK TOMORROW AND THIS WEEK THEY HAVE ME IN STUPID EARLY.  
Prospit: ID HAVE TO BE IN EARLY TONIGHT TO BE UP EARLY ENOUGH AND YOURE NOT HERE UNTIL LATER

Derse: man i can do that

There was a pause for a moment and you looked up to find him staring at the tablet in pure shock. You laugh a little, yah, today was wild. Maybe even scary. But did he really think you'd turn down a guaranteed night's rest? You would work through any amount of anxiety and fear for that.

Prospit: WHAT?

Derse: yah man when would you need me in?  
Derse: you really think id turn down the chance to sleep?

Prospit: EVEN AFTER THAT WHOLE NUCLEAR FAILURE OF A CONVERSATION LAST NIGHT?

Derse: yah man  
Derse: theres really no one better than you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at [uncannycory](https://uncannycory.tumblr.com/) on tumblr  
> Comments and criticism always welcome


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I dont have a set update schedule, but i feel bad that I didn't update when i normally do lol. So sorry for being late, was feeling pretty crummy on my last days off, so the chapter has been sitting at mostly done for a while.  
> Thank you again for reading.

You were walking home from the bus stop when your phone pinged. That was new, hardly anyone but Dirk tended to be up this early and he normally waited until you were home to hit you up. You turned the cruise control on in your brain and pulled out your phone to see who it was.

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering  turntechGodhead [TG]

TT: Good morning my dearest brother.

TG: sup  
TG: youre up early

TT: Quite. I was hoping to catch you before I had to go meet my editor.  
TT: Would you happen to be free to go to dinner with me and our siblings this evening?

TG: shit man nah  
TG: id love to but someone already booked me up for tonight  
TG: i got a date with some sweet z's and hopefully itll end with me gettin laid  
TG: in a tub of slime anyway  
TG: asleep

TT: Oh, I was under the impression you had been there the last several nights.

TG: yah  
TG: got a new client whos just eaten up my nightmare shit tho so im takin it until hes sick of me.

There is a pause when you stop, looking both ways before you cross the street. Once reaching the other side it seemed Rose still hadn't responded though. The phone app said she was typing, then stopping and backspacing, then typing again. Time to fill the silence then.

TG: its been fukin nice gettin to sleep like a normal person  
TG: did you know how easy it is to like read when your brain doesnt feel like baby food?  
TG: ive managed to like even sit down and work on my script 

TT: Dave.

TG: rose

TT: Dave I understand that this may sound hypocritical considering I was the one to suggest it to you, but I find myself regularly concerned with how often you are going to The Institute.

You stop and blink. In fact, you are so shocked that you make a point of blinking incredulously and make a face like that [meme](https://media.tenor.com/images/7e36f448e032d6ef74d41adfe736d359/tenor.gif). Because if you didn't meme right the fuck then, you'd be reading more of what your twin was writing. And she couldn't really be saying what you _think_ she's saying, could she?

TG: what

TT: You are aware that addiction can be passed down genetically, correct? Both Roxy and I have had the same struggle as our Mother, I'm simply worried that this is your vice of choice.

All you could hear was roaring white noise in your ears. You couldn't move, your body tight and rigid with anger. Your hands shake and you lick your lips as you type.

TG: rose  
TG: what the actual fuck

TT: I know you are not currently seeing your therapist, I'm worried you have no intentions of actually fixing the problem Dave.  
TT: I spoke to Dirk as well, we both are worried.

Dirk?! Fuck, fuck them. Fuck this. Your viens thrum with anger, burn with it. You are a volcano ready to blow, there would be a crater when all's said and done.

TG: what the actual fuck rose  
TG: its sleep  
TG: people need sleep rose  
TG: and fuck the ONLY reason im not seeing my therapist right now is because she isnt open on the days i have off now  
TG: what with my new schedule and the JOB that i need SLEEP for  
TG: shes working on finding a new therapist with me  
TG: shes actually supposed to call today if i manage to get home anytime soon

TT: Dave, please calm down. I think you are overreacting, I am simply concerned.

TG: nah rose, fuck that  
TG: shit i thought you understood  
TG: i told you everything  
TG: sure we didn't grow up together but i thought my twin fuckin had it on lock  
TG: most understanding sib  
TG: but nah i guess im the sucker  
TG: my sisters actually imortan rose  
TG: all like dont become addicted to sleep dave, it will take a hold of you and youll come to resent its absence  
TG: rose i have a job  
TG: i need to function  
TG: what would you have me do

TT: Do you really need that job Dave? You could come live with me. Deeps knows I could use the help looking after Mother. She's reacting poorly to the move here.  
TT: You could keep going to therapy. Work on your script while you find something that helps.

TG: what  
TG: rose if i wanted to i could do that with dirk  
TG: he brings more than enough in with his weird robots  
TG: do you know how hard it is to get into the movie industry?  
TG: i cant just walk away and expect there to be a place here for me when i come back  
TG: and im learning so fucking much  
TG: rose im doing this because i want to  
TG: you were always the one to tell me to get out there and chase my dreams what the hell

TT: But it isn't good for you Dave. You have to take care of yourself.

TG: no fuck this  
TG: i dont have to listen to this 

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering  tentacleTherapist [TT]

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering  turntechGodhead [TG]

TT: No Dave, please.

turntechGodhead [TG] blocked  tentacleTherapist [TT]

You don't know how long you'd been standing in the middle of the sidewalk, just tapping away on your phone angrily. You were just glad it was early enough that no one was around to see you shaking like that. It meant that when you broke into a full on sprint down the last block to your apartment, you didn't have to be careful of running into someone.  
You slam the door when you get home. Barely kicking out of your shoes and throwing your jacket on the back of the couch before storming out onto the little balcony. You shoved the two chairs that were there to one side, positioning yourself in front of Dirk's punching bag and starting a routine you hadn't even dared touch in years.  
It was time to blow off some steam.  
You were finishing your second set when you saw Dirk finally emerge from his room.  
He looked around a moment, not seeming too surprised when he finally eyed you on the balcony, the punching bag still swaying with the residual force of your anger. He probably heard the door slam, he probably wasn't surprised at all. He joined you outside as you turned to start your third set.  
You heard him pulling one of the plastic chairs that you shoved into the corner back out, and you didn't have to see him to know what he was doing. He would be sitting cross-legged on the chair, resting his elbows on his knees and he'd close his eyes. On bad days he'd sit out here like that for hours. You count your punches, measuring them out evenly, breathing controlled.  
He waited until you finished your set to say anything.  
"Your therapist called before you got home. She asked me to have you call her back." You took deep even breaths, the anger slowly rising in your blood again. You wish you had stopped to grab a water bottle, anything to take your mind off the argument that was going to come. Rose purple words were printed on the back of your eyelids. You started another set before you even finished catching your breath.  
When you finish that set you finally turned around, surprised to see a water bottle being offered your way. You didn't hear him get up. Your head was still pounding, though your anger temporarily disarmed from surprise as you took the water.  
"Has Rose got to you about dinner tonight?" He was carefully settling himself again, tucking his feet back under him and facing out over your little neighborhood. You knew he was looking at you though, his orange eyes visible from the angle you were looking at him.  
"Yes." The anger prickled over your skin, bile rising in your throat and you take a deep pull from the water bottle. You were still so fucking _angry_ , though it simmered now just under the surface. How could they do this to you? How could he do this to you? Dirk. Dirk, who lived that entire thing with you. Dirk, who was just as fucked up as you. He was supposed to be _happy_ for you.  
Dirk seemed to feel it somehow, despite how god fucking awful he was at reading the room. He tilted his head so slightly, a silent question punctuated with a quiet "hm?"  
"Rose told me how you both think I should stop going to the institute." You didn't try to hide the scathing tone in your voice, the anger bubbling up again, barely suppressed. You fail to fully comprehend the baffled look that crossed Dirk's face." She was saying something about addiction being passed on genetically and staying with her and Mom and _fuck_ Dirk I thought you fucking understood!"  
You hadn't realized how your voice was rising so quickly or how your nails were digging hard into your palm until Dirk raised a quiet hand to stop you from continuing on your impending diatribe. You scowl at him, but let him get a word in. It takes him a long contemplative moment, and you used the time to actually put together what you were seeing. He seemed a little at a loss.  
"Fuck her..." he mummbled a bit under his breath before he stood and faced the chair towards you, sitting and crossing one leg in his lap. He leaned forward, pushing his glasses up into his hair and leveling his intense eyes at you. "That is not what I told her Dave. I could never…"  
He seemed to be desperately trying to find the words he needed, but the awkward pause was lost on you. It was like a plug was pulled, all the anger rushing out and leaving you with an empty sick feeling. You felt cold. Only Dirk's steady voice pulled you back from the edge of nothingness you found yourself on.  
"She messaged me last night asking if I was worried about you and how often you go. And I mean I am, it means you're not getting better. But I get it. Dude, I lived with you. If this is how you get sleep then I want you to go." His eyes started on you but they didn't hold. It had always gotten him in trouble with Bro, he'd ways say he needed to look his problems in the eye. Just the echo of that memory made you sick to remember. How could you ever think Dirk could have thought that? How could you trust him so little? This happened sometimes. Rose and Dirk were both so wordy online she could forget that he would only answer the questions asked, not the subtle implications she hid under them.  
"We are supposed to be going out to celebrate Roxy getting a promotion. This wasn't supposed to be some sort of jacked up intervention Dave. I'm so sorry I have to talk to Rose I…" Dirk stood up, moving to step inside before you stopped him. You grabbed the edge of his shirt and gave it a gentle tug, a request. He stopped, giving you a long unidentifiable look before opening his arms. You pressed yourself into a hug.  
How could you think he would do that to you? Dirk. Dirk, who lived that entire thing with you. Dirk, who was just as fucked up as you, of _course_ he got it. He struggled with his paranoia, that desperate need to be in control it gave him. He struggled with his sense of identity, a broken feeling of being less himself the more he grew into the silhouette of _him._ Hell, Dirk struggled with sleep and nightmares like you. Long nights alternating working and walking the perimeter of the apartment building.  
"Sorry." You choked back a sob, guilt and much colder anger throbbing through your core. You were a child again, desperately clinging and crying because you had thought he'd forgotten to pick you up and you were _so_ angry, but when he got there he was patched up from a strife. Bro had jumped him as he had been leaving to get you.  
"It's fine Dave." A hand pressed against the back of your head, rubbing soothing little circles towards the back of your ear. He held you until your body stopped shaking, then you both pulled apart mechanically. The stimming started almost immediately.  
"Are you still going to go out with them?" You sounded like a small child in your own head, worried that you ruined everything. If you really sounded like that though, Dirk made no indication.  
"Yes. I believe Roxy and I need to have a long conversation with Rose." He finished brushing himself down before reaching up to pull his shades back over his eyes. "You up for trying for lunch with us one of your next days off?"  
You nod. He nods as well. The silence was comforting in that particular Dirk way.  
You showered before spending the rest of your afternoon picking away at your script.

You felt hollow, empty. Only a hard little core of anger left in your chest. You hadn't done anything remarkable with your Friday, but apparently this weekend had been penned in as one to feel every horrible emotion so it might as well end like this. Burnt out and tired. Knowing that Vantas was waiting was the only thing that got you out of the house at all.  
You left early, you couldn't bear the thought of staying in the apartment any longer. The guilty feeling had eventually ebbed away, but it had been suffocating. Hopefully a good night's rest would clear the metaphorical air.  
So you left early which means you arrived early. Early enough that you were surprised to see Vantas already there waiting. You know he saw you too, his eyes clicked to yours before he tried to look anywhere else. You gave him a short wave which seemed to surprise him, and you went to clock in.  
You'd mostly set up when he finally showed up in the other room. The surprise on his face was mostly gone, leaving a thin veil of irritation as he sat down at the table. It was enough to distract you from your own feelings as you settle in at your table across from him.

Derse: bad day man?

You watched him stare at the tablet, he was weighing his options. It was hard to imagine what had him looking so PO'd when there was hardly a time when you could say he didn't come in looking miserable one way or the other. Annoyance seemed to be his default, but the more mild look of agitation seemed more real than any of it before. He began typing on his tablet.

Prospit: FUCK YAH  
Prospit: I GOT GOT HOME THIS MORNING AND MY BROTHER WOULDNT GET OFF MY ASS  
Prospit: HE WANTED ME TO HELP HIM WITH SOMETHING TONIGHT AND GOT HIS PANTIES ALL IN A TWIST WHEN I SAID I WAS COMING HERE  
Prospit: I KNOW ITS STUPID BUT I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT

Whaaaat. Oh shit, mood. You feel the little cold core of anger unfurl a little, ripple out, but for the first time today it didn't make you feel sick. You didn't really think you'd be so comfortable talking to Vantas again so soon, but the promise of a good old bitching in solidarity sent a thrill through you.

Derse: what really no way  
Derse: would it be crazy if i told you my sister did the same today?  
Derse: crazy bitch even got my brother all tangled up in that shit

Prospit: WHAT REALLY?

It was funny to see him go on face journeys like that, the surprise, the disbelief, the...relief? Maybe he needed a good bitch about this too, and he seemed the type to be able to bitch with the best of them.

Derse: yah nah she was all up n like  
Derse: "Our family has a history of addiction Dave, are you sure this isn't yours?"

Prospit: WHAT THE FUCK? LIKE SHE KNOWS THAT PEOPLE NEED SLEEP RIGHT?

Derse: yah and she knows how bad my hallucinations get  
Derse: its so fucked up  
Derse: like what am i supposed to do? i have a fukin job yknow?

Prospit: FUCK YAH I KNOW  
Prospit: MY BROTHER WAS KINDA THE SAME BUT MORE LIKE I SHOULD BE BETTER THAN THIS?  
Prospit: LIKE I COULD BE DOING MORE FOR HIM AND MY DAD AND SHIT  
Prospit: I WANTED TO FUCKING SCREAM LIKE I ALREADY TAKE DAD TO HIS DOCTORS APPOINTMENTS AND HELP HIM GET TO CLASS  
Prospit: AND IM THE ONLY REASON EITHER OF THEM HAVE HEALTHCARE AT THIS POINT WITH MY JOB  
Prospit: LIKE I CANT JUST STOP I CANT BE FUCKED UP LIKE THAT AT WORK ALL THE TIME

Derse: yah!  
Derse: she was all like "You can come live with me and Mother and not work and try and get better" and i was just  
Derse: i cant  
Derse: its hard enough to get into the industry as it is like fuck i cant just walk away  
Derse: and i also cant go to work and freak out and see shit  
Derse: its like its bad enough  
Derse: all the fukin side effects of not sleeping  
Derse: shouldnt family be supporting us?

Prospit: YAH LIKE FUCK, THE CONSTANT SHAKING IS BAD ENOUGH

Derse: and the constantly being too cold

Prospit: OR TOO HOT

Derse: and always hungry

Prospit: AND HEARING THINGS

Derse: and obviously seeing things

Prospit: AND IVE GAINED WEIGHT SINCE THIS HAS GOTTEN WORSE

Derse: fuck yah me too and i am always forgetting shit

Prospit: FUCK YAH ME TOO I HAVE TO WRITE EVERYTHING DOWN AT WORK

Derse: and fuck i get sick more often now

Prospit: YAH I HAVE TO BE SO CAREFUL BRINGING THINGS HOME TO MY DAD  
Prospit: AND I KNOW IM MORE OF A MOODY SHIT NOW  
Prospit: LIKE IVE ALWAYS BEEN BUT LIKE TODAY  
Prospit: IM PRETTY SURE I OVER REACTED

Derse: nah man its really fukin infuriating  
Derse: we are trying our best here right?  
Derse: like i dont want this to be forever i go to therapy  
Derse: i try other shit when im not here  
Derse: but we cant just stop living

He didn't respond immediately curiously enough, but when you looked up you understood why. Karkat was sitting at the other table, rubbing his eyes with his fists. It was as relieving to see as it was worrying.

Derse: shit man are you okay

You watch as his shoulders jump and your heart mimics because _he's hiccuping and it's cute._ This guy shouldn't be allowed to be cute enough to do this to you after everything that's been said but there he is, making you feel like a smitten child with puppy love written all over your face. He shouldn't be allowed to be so cute when crying.

Prospit: FUCK I FORGET YOU CAN SEE ME  
Prospit: IM SORRY IM FINE  
Prospit: ITS JUST SO NICE TO TALK TO SOMEONE WHO REALLY GETS IT

At some point that last little ball of anger had dissipated, leaving you in a warm wash of someone understanding. So reading that well, well something small in you cracked. Empathy welled in you because yah, you really do _get it._ You got it the first day he walked in. You got it when he told you your name and that he'd seen you and he looked so sick with anxiety that you might leave. Because what would you do if he left you?

Derse: yah man i get it  
Derse: lets take this fukin mutual understanding and get it on then right?  
Derse: we got an appointment with some slime  
Derse: its asking who we gonna call

He cracked that crooked smile, you felt yourself smiling back.

Prospit: SHUT THE FUCK UP  
Prospit: ILL BE IN SOON

Putting down the tablet, you closed your eyes for just a moment. You hear the curtain getting pulled across the glass, you hear the gentle whir of the machines in the room. You felt it again, that white space unfolding in your chest.  
It doesn't take you long to get ready and go under.  
The white of his subconscious greets you like an old friend. But it'd only really been a month right? A month and maybe a week full of nights sharing dreams together at most. You counted back the nightmares you know you'd shared with him and it sounded right. Maybe more like three weeks but who's really counting.  
You floated down to where he was curled up on the floor. He still looked more uncomfortable than you'd ever seen another dreamer, but he was less tense than you'd personally seen him before. Tear marks were tracked down his cheeks. It made you want to reach out and touch his face, to comfort him. But…  
This was like a parasocial relationship right? You heard about this, it's why stalking was such a large problem for the ISSD. This man in front of you had probably seen the most private parts of your psyche. He'd dreamed in your stead, facing your brains fucked up interpretation of your deepest most innate fears. He was closer and knew you better than anyone else, he had seen parts of you that you'd never lay bare for another.  
But you didn't really know each other did you? This was a fanciful crush, it was your heart and brain latching onto someone who brought you comfort and rest. You finally found someone who understood, someone who could stand up to the worst of what your brain had to offer so of course it wanted more. What more did anyone want than to be understood?  
It was a pointless train of thought so you put it away. You indulge yourself though, reaching out to rub the tear tracks from his face with your thumb.  
It was the quietest your subconscious had ever been. Instead of dark reds and blacks everything was softer, pinks and grays with bursts of white. The glimpses of memories and thoughts your brain was trying to turn over were muted, instead of the metallic clanging of your heartbeat you only heard the gentle ticking of a clock.  
And the bubble was dark, but it wasn't as tense as it normally was. It didn't seem like a soap bubble ready to pop, more like the gentle rising and falling of a chest. You pulled in close to see.

It was so dark, and the little light that came down from above the craggy canyon washed everything a sickly orange-yellow. Everything was dusty and dry, dead plants crisp from the unyielding heat you were sure he was being subjected to.  
He stood on a ledge, looking across the bottom of the canyon. You knew where he was looking, it dominated the opposite cliff facing. His body was tense, his face neutral except for the slight furrow of his brow.  
Across from Karkat was a massive gateway, a portal you could even call it. It was built up out of red stalagmite, fallen stone and hollow, crisped trees. The opening of the gate shimmered, rippled like liquid where everything else was parched. It was like it was sucking the life out of everything around it.  
Karkat stood and stared, though from where he was at you knew he could hardly see what was through the portal gate. This dream…these dreams were always strange. You'd never had this one specifically, but you had many like it. Nothing would happen at all. It would always be loud, one note. It would ratchet up your anxiety until you were about to explode and that's when you'd wake up, heart pounding in your chest.  
He finally tore his eyes from the portal, glancing around. The paranoia was starting to kick in, you could tell. You would be looking for him, but in these dreams he would never come. It always felt that he was right there, right outside your vision, it always made it worse.  
At some point while you were lost in thought Vantas had begun climbing down into the dried river bed. You shifted along the surface of the bubble to follow him. Nothing spectacular happened when he got down, it was the dragging torture of these dreams. Constantly on the edge, waiting for things to go wrong. He began climbing up towards the gate and still, nothing happened.  
Then he stood, facing the portal. It was hard to tell if the portal was really that massive, or if it was just how short Karkat was. It was probably both. But you could see in now, and you knew he could too.  
It was a portal to Hell.  
And against all common sense, Karkat was reaching out to touch it.

You wake up with a start and a thought. You grab for your cup of water before you even think about getting out of the slime, downing it in one. You feel sleepy and fuzzy, different than when you normally wake up. In all honesty it's a bit stressful.  
It takes you a little bit to get out of the tub, you had let yourself sit there too long after waking up and the slime was trying to drag you back under. You were getting groggy again, your thoughts were sleepy mush. What were you thinking about again? You woke up thinking about something.  
You pull yourself out of the tub and grab the towel and you think you almost have the thought again when there's a noise from the other room. You find yourself at the window before you can even stop yourself.  
The noise was apparently Karkat trying to sit and missing the chair, because you can see him sitting on the floor, tablet next to him, looking very cute. You mean confused. But well yah, cute too. He looked as sleepy as you felt and you realized kind of belatedly it's because of how early it is. Right. You came in early because he had to leave early. Your tablet chimed from the table, and when you look back to Karkat he had managed to find his way back up onto the chair. You do the same, though with notably less time spent on the floor.

Prospit: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DREAM

Ah yes, the dream. You were thinking about Karkat and the dream. That was your missing thought. He had… that was…

Derse: what did my brain actually make something that scares yah Vantas?

Prospit: FUCK I DON'T KNOW THAT WAS JUST…  
Prospit: I MEAN IT WAS UNSETTLING  
Prospit: I WOKE UP PANICKING AND NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED  
Prospit: WAS ANYTHING EVEN GOING TO HAPPEN?  
Prospit: THE DREAM WASNT GIVING ME ANY DIRECTION AND IT JUST FELT…

That's right. That was probably the first time Karkat had ever broken out of a dream's script.

Derse: lemme guess  
Derse: it was killing you with the antici-  
Derse:  
Derse:

You look up, Karkat is glaring at you from behind the glass. Slowly, he raises a middle finger to you.

Derse:- pation.

Prospit: FUCK YOU

Derse: but nah man nothing normally happens in those dreams  
Derse: lemme guess though  
Derse: that portal made one hella loud noise  
Derse: one note  
Derse: didnt stop

Prospit: FUCK YAH IT MADE ME WANT TO DIE  
Prospit: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU DEAL WITH THAT

You had to laugh at that, how does he think you deal with that.

Derse: i dont  
Derse: its why i got you dumbshit  
Derse: anyway, dont you gotta get ready for work dude?  
Derse: get some water  
Derse: calm down and fill out those forms  
Derse: we can talk about how much my nightmares suck the next time youre in

Karkat looked a little alarmed when you mentioned work, and you watch him turn around to eye the clock over the door.

Prospit: YAH FUCK YOURE RIGHT  
Prospit: AT LEAST WE GOT IN EARLY I STILL HAVE TIME TO SPARE

Derse: well then have a good day my dude

You watch him as he finished out his paperwork and get ready to leave, one thought still rolling around in your head.  
He broke the script. Why did he break the script.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always you can find me at [uncannycory](https://uncannycory.tumblr.com/) on tumblr  
> Comments and criticism always welcome  
> Edit: why is every gif i find of that meme so fried


End file.
